The Brit awards 2010
rehna February 21st, 2010
The British weather is a bitch when it comes to dressing for Awards season which is always in the winter (the proper winter when it’s really cold as opposed to the British ‘summer’ when it’s just mildly cold).
On Tuesday night I stepped out of the house for the 30th Brits awards; a special occasion that would mark 30 years of celebrating pop music. It was worth dressing up for. So my now very long hair had been curled carefully. The intention was’ soft waves cascading sexily around my shoulders which were clad in a beautiful, yellow, halter neck dress.
As I stepped out of my car, sans umbrella, the heavens opened. The week’s worst deluge left my soft waves looking like sodden rats tails. Worse was to follow for my lovely dress but more of that later.
Earls Court is a horrible arena which is rightly about to be pulled down. But inside the show more than made up for it.
Peter Kay as host has received mixed reviews; some people hating his ‘professional northerner’ act and dismissing his put downs of the stars as plain nasty. I thought he was funny, if a little close to the bone at times.
After all who else would mutter ‘knobhead’ as Liam Gallagher, surly Oasis front-man, threw his heavy microphone and Brit into the audience after winning for best British album of the past 30 years for ‘What’s the story morning glory’.
Frankly, Kay simply said what everyone was thinking. Liam tried to be all hard on Twitter (!) about it later challenging Kay about being a real northerner anyway, but Liam, if you really weren’t that bothered about awards you wouldn’t have dressed up to the nines and turned up to accept one in the first place.
On stage the performances were fantastic; yes, even the nation’s miming sweetheart Cheryl Cole, nee Tweedy. She danced gamely through her hit ‘Fight for this love’ knowing everyone’s attention was on the 3rd finger of her left hand.
‘Fight for this love, never a truer word,’ muttered Peter Kay when she finished, cruel but funny in light of Ms Cole’s marital woes.
I love guitar rock and Kasabian really were on fire during their rocking performance of ‘I’m on fire.’ I’m now officially a fan.
But of-course, everyone was there to see Lady Gaga and she didn’t disappoint. Looking like a cross between a demented Marie Antoinette and a doily she showed she can sing as well as dress in bizarre outfits by delivering a heartfelt rendition of an unfamiliar song she dedicated to Alexander McQueen. She closed the night by winning all 3 of he International awards except best international male……and that was a close call, muttered Peter Kay, no doubt referencing Internet rumours that the lady may really be a lord.
Best international male instead went to Jay Z whose duet with Alicia Keys was stupendous. Boy can that girl sing! When she unleashed her lungs on the chorus to Jay Z’s rap, I honestly felt it in my stomach. Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous!
Elsewhere Dizee Rascal (love that name) teamed up well with Florence minus her machine and Robbie Williams got his 16th gong when he received the outstanding achievement to music award. Personally I think that should have gone posthumously to Michael Jackson. I find Williams overhyped and annoying although he certainly knows how to work an audience. But, honestly, 16 Brits when Radiohead don’t even have one???????
In all it was a fun night and a good showcase for many acts both old and new.
And my dress? Ah yes, splashed by a bus on the way back to my car. Glam.
And spare a thought for my little nephew. He watched the show on tv waiting to see me perform. Bless! He’s only 5.
- The Review Salon
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